


I Miss You Too Much to Stay Mad

by moonstruckhargrove



Series: The Billy Hargrove Chronicles [8]
Category: Stranger Things - Fandom
Genre: Billy's got shitty self esteem, F/M, angst angst and more angst, this one hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-07 16:28:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16857430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonstruckhargrove/pseuds/moonstruckhargrove
Summary: Based on the request: "Hi! Happy that your requests are open (just read the ask) because I have this line in my head, it’s from a song and it goes “I miss you too much to be mad anymore” and since I absolutely love your Billy stuff, I’d love it if you could to this one with him? The reader just misses him so much after an awful fight that she wants to fix things? But it kinda takes her long to make a move and she says it … like a last option kinda thing? You know? Surprise me with the end, Idc! Anyways, thank you!"





	I Miss You Too Much to Stay Mad

It wasn’t supposed to go as far as it did, but Billy had a horrible tendency to escalate things, especially when his brain was poisoning itself with insecurity, doubt, and rage. He said some cruel things every so often, but as soon as the words left his mouth he was apologizing, near tears, and trying to kiss it all away.

Not this time.

This time, he whirled on his heel after spitting something you weren’t sure you could forgive him for, and he left.

He’d been gone a week.

If he’d been home at all while you were at work, he left no trace. Your mind was spinning, worried sick over him and where he could be crashing. More than once you convinced yourself he’d found comfort in the arms of someone else, but almost immediately you pulled yourself off that track. Billy wouldn’t cheat; he’d assured you over and over again that those days of whoring himself out were over. You believed him, and you wouldn’t stomp on that trust by thinking he was cheating.

It was a stupid argument, one that never should have happened, but it did, and of course it was over something trivial. You’d taken a bit longer getting home from your weekly night out with your coworkers, something that took eons to convince Billy to be okay with, and Billy’s mind had strayed very quickly to reasons why you could be late.

He grilled you as soon as you walked through the door, demanding to know why you were later than you’d originally said, and he hadn’t accepted your excuse of arguing over splitting the bill.

He’d said something nasty in reply, alluding to you spreading your legs for a coworker Billy would bet money on had a thing for you, and that was that. The damage was done, and Billy left without another word. His words had hurt, more than you would ever tell him, but now, after a week without him, you missed him terribly and were willing to forgive him if it meant he would come home.

When he finally did, he looked like he hadn’t sleep or eaten in a week, but he was scowling. He didn’t look at you as he stormed into your bedroom, yanking a bag out of the closet. Fear coiled itself around your heart.

“Wh-What are you doing?” you asked, letting that fear taint your voice. Billy began shoving his clothes into the bag, completely disregarding you. “Billy? Billy, please. I miss you. I miss you too much to be mad anymore. I forgive you, okay?”

He did glance at you then, and even that was enough to relieve you.

With his attention, you plowed on. “I’m not mad anymore. I know you didn’t mean it, but Billy, it’s been a week. I miss you so much.”

He stopped pulling clothes out of the dresser and instead leaned on it, the muscles in his forearms flexing as he fought to control his emotions.

“I hurt you, Y/N,” he muttered, voice cracking. “I can’t forgive myself for that. I’m…I’m no good for you.”

“Billy, please, you made a mistake. It happens, it’s okay.”

“It’s not, Y/N. You don’t deserve that… You don’t deserve me. You need someone who can trust you and won’t accuse you of stupid shit.”

You recoiled. “You…you don’t trust me? After all these years?”

The look on his face gave you your answer, and you could swear you felt your heart breaking inside your chest. You took a small step backwards away from him. The look on your face was causing him more agony than he was willing to admit, but it was a truth he’d been denying for a while. He couldn’t trust you, he couldn’t trust anyone. Any possibility of having a normal, functioning relationship had been beaten out of him. When you first started dating, he saw a future with you; to be frank, he still did, but he didn’t see a happy one. He saw an angry, mistrustful, and eventually resentful one. You’d grow to resent him for not voicing his thoughts, for not opening up to you, so he was making it easier for the both of you.

You could move on with someone who could give his entire heart to you, not just a small piece. 

And he, he would go on his life cursing his father and for fucking him up the way he did, screwing him out of any possible chance of having true happiness.

The silence between you stretched further as he finished packing and swung the bag over his shoulder. He couldn’t look at you as he brushed by you, twisting to avoid any physical contact. It stung and made you inhale sharply. You willed yourself not to cry, but as you helplessly followed him to the front door, some tears escaped and the dam was broken.

He didn’t look at you as he curled a hand around the doorknob, head bowed. He did pause, though.

“Take care of yourself, Y/N.”

And then he was gone. He heard the loud cry that left your mouth through your door and it was like a knife to the gut. But he didn’t turn around.


End file.
